#character development;;

[dis--parity]

『 🌹 』 Tap tap, tap tap tap tap... tap.

“... for real. Right when I was about to bring everyone’s hopes up, like I always do...”

“How... how do I get my mind to just... stop? How do I fix this?”

[dis--parity]

A lil thing for @cxnfectioniism!

“It’s just... I don’t wanna say it’s bullshit. But... i- it’s frustrating. I mean, I- I work myself up for all that, and- and I thought, with... with everything we’ve done together, and everything I’ve told her, I... guess I just expected something different.” “So... you’re mad at her for not loving you back?” “No! No, God, no. I’m not that shallow! I- I mean, I don’t want to be that way. Sheesh...”

Yet, it’s only when it’s put that way that she realises how it comes across. Maybe that’s why it was better of her to bring this here in the first place, she thinks. Neutral ground. A better place to process her thoughts and feelings. That’s why she paid Hannile what she did.

Leaning back in her chair as Alex picked up a squeezy toy to better focus herself, she prepares her own short rhetoric of a reply. Her stern gaze refracts through square glasses into a sincere warmness as she speaks.

“You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?” “... yeah. With Nancy. We-... kept it casual, but... the difference is I didn’t speak up there. I- I didn’t... say it. Not like I did there, not until I was sure. And- and by that point, even, it- it was too late. I- I only ever got to enjoy that for... a week at most.” “And why was that, Alex? Why were they so uncertain?” “I... think I remember. I remember talking to ‘em about it, i- it was just about relationships in general, and how–... doc, wh- where are you going with this?” “I think you know, Alexandra.”

The doctor merely smiles - and deigns it fair enough a time to state the obvious. “Consider, perhaps... that you’re not the only one with relationship trauma. All kinds of things could be going on with her that you don’t know about, the same as Nancy. And just like her, the two of you can be very close, and even have a healthy sex life - but ultimately, the commitment itself is mutual. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she hums. “I-... I wouldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to. But-... that doesn’t stop me feeling... upset about what she said.” “Alex,” Hannile interjects. “Did she reject you? Did she say she can’t return her feelings?”

“... no. No, she didn’t.” “Then it’s not the end of the world. It’s okay to make mistakes, especially when you find you have feelings for someone. But there is merit in what you did, because now she knows. You would want someone to be patient with you, if you found yourself in her shoes, wouldn’t you? It’s happened to you before.” “W-... with Theo, yeah. But- we’re just friends now. So, what if-... what if this is the same way?”

“What if it isn’t?” Her pointedly-stated remark finally gets Alex to look up from how she idly spoke down to the squishy toy she held. “You have no way of predicting the future - only to control it. Theo was pushy, and I all too clearly remember you berating him for that. Take it as a lesson, Alex. You know what to do to be the best version of yourself for her. Maybe you’ll find that’s all she wants - patience.”

“Ah...” Alex sighs - though her head bobs with a nod of understanding. “I get it. I-... I- I’m not gonna take it back. No matter what. But-... yeah. I-... guess we’ll have to see where it goes.” “Quite right. Continue as you were, and if she wants to talk about it, let her. She’s still her own person -

Hannile’s smile is softer - and there’s a strange humour in it. “Gosh... I never thought I would have a client who took me back to my days as a relationship counsellor. Tell me, do you think a group session with this, Ariana, might help someday?” “Those cost extra, right?” “Fifty percent.” “I, uh... think I’ll pass. But-... thanks for the offer, doc. And- y’know, just... thanks. I- I’m seeing things clearer, and-... and I feel a little better about the whole thing now.”

“It’s my job. Now... was there anything else?”

[dis--parity]

paperwork.

Summary: Alex gets around to something she’s put off for too long. Trigger warnings: None! Author notes: Happy mother’s day to all my UK moots!

       “And this... is the main reason I didn’t get around to this for so long.” The girl’s prosthetic hand rests upon the wad of papers present in front of her - brass-tipped fingers placing her pen down to shift the forms aside, sheet by sheet.

“So.” Flip. “Much.” Flip. “Paperwork.”

The sigh that escapes her sounds dangerously close to completely demoralised defeat; the world of legal matters was not only completely and utterly boring to her, but the amount of small boxes, scattered text... it was far too difficult for her to focus on alone. Just looking at the form seemed to confuse the poor girl - if not because she understood how serious the change was, then simply because of how... uncomfortably uniform these documents were.

She never would have seen herself even making an attempt at it, if it were just her - if there wasn’t still one person in her life who knew her almost as well as she knew herself. Whose voice could still bring a little clarity and focus to her addled mind.

Whose hand would find its way to her shoulder, resting upon it as if it had always belonged there, brushing away those curly golden locks so alike her own. Her free hand, then, would gather up the papers again, already with a few pen marks on them - putting just one sheet in front of her, and tucking the rest away with a smile.

“It’s like eating an elephant, dear.”, hummed Janella. “I know you get too overwhelmed when you try to do everything in one go - let’s go through it bit by bit. Now, then... this first sheet is the most important part, dear.

Your new name. What do you want it to be?”

She hesitates to give a direct response to her mother; all her life, she’s known herself as the same person. Alexandra. And so would her prosthetic hand pick up the pen again and put down exactly that. The gesture warranted a furrow of the brow from her mother; but nothing more than that.

“The same name?”, she asked, a chuckle slipping past her lips. “I’m surprised, dear, you’ve put so much thought into the person you want to be…” “I know who I am, mom. I’m Alex. Well... Alexandra, not Aleksander, now. And-... well, I- I guess there’s a couple of other things, too.” “Such as?” “My middle name, for a start.”

The nod that Janella gives her in turn is slow, one of absolute understanding. “Eitan, or Ethan… the name your father wanted for you when you were born-” “I- I don’t need to be reminded-”, Alex snaps - sucking in a deep breath, eyes cringing shut as she pushes the anger back down again. Unfazed as Janella seemed to be, she loathed how easy it was for that name to fill her with such rage. “Sorry, mom, I- I- just... yeah. That’s-... why I wanna get rid of it.”

“Well. I can’t say I blame you, darling,”, she sighed. “Your father was an awful man, there’s no denying that. Even years later, I’m still ashamed to have called that apathetic, selfish shell of a man my husband.” “Wh- what about the dude you left him for, my stepdad?”, asked Alex, with a tilt of her head. “I mean… he- he never sounded like he was that much better, right?” “... well, yes, but at least he actually tried to care, dear.” Clearly, that alone was enough for her to stay married to him for 17 years of her life; enough for her to raise a kid with him, even! Alex simply pursed her lips, a small hum serving as a subtle ‘touché’ to her mother’s retort. “But, I’ve told you those stories, haven’t I? So… what were you thinking of instead? Or, you can always get rid of it entirely, I suppose.” “No, I-... I had an idea. It’s silly, but…” She breathes in again; she’s learned well enough not to be embarrassed around her mother. Besides her therapist, she’s probably the one woman she’s shared the most with.

“My first name… I- I kinda wanted to change it to Alyssa. But-... I feel like that’s better as my middle name, y’know? And-...”

She hesitates again, pen hovering after the name ‘Alyssa’, as if paralyzed by some unknown force. Her eyes close, rendering her unable to see her mother’s glance of curiosity, but only for the moment it takes to make up her mind. Her pen slides slowly, apologetically across the paper again, the ink curling and swerving into a new word.

Gale.

It’s not a name the two of them feel any need to share words over. Her mother was one of the first other people who Alex opened up to about the impact that girl had on her, after all - and the legacy of a lost love is not something she’s about to dispute. Though, she must miss her an awful lot for her to want so badly to do such a thing - then again, who was she to say anything about that?

“You know,” Janella hums. “I think you’re having the same thoughts I did when I decided to keep your stepfather’s name. That, deep down, perhaps… there was still a good person where he was. At the very least, there was a person we missed.” “Yeah… I do miss her. Every day, y- you know that. But… I- I guess I just wanna carry her with me a little more. Like I do with Nancy.” “Won’t argue with you there, darling. Whatever your heart desires. Speaking of which… will that be your last name?”

And, at last, they come to the final hurdle - yet, for as much as she anticipates that Janella would ask, and for as good of an answer as she has, she just… can’t seem to get the words out. She stalls - breath slowly and sharply seething in through her nostrils as she gathers the will to say those words she’s mentally rehearsed over and over again. While the papers were printing, while her mom’s car was pulling up to the parking lot, all the while the Earl Grey she was enjoying was steeping… and finally, she spoke, her quaking voice barely audible enough to register.

“I want… your name. Y- your… your last name, I mean.

I wanna be a Cloutier. No-... an Iskra Cloutier.”

Janella falls silent then, for a good moment - her teacup slowly finding its way back to the fine saucer it rested on. She seemed more confused than touched by the gesture, as it was - but, there was still a glint of understanding behind her eyes.

“I see… but, darling, you could choose anything you want. You don’t need to take on my name, I should hardly think I’m a huge part of your whole transformation.

Please, don’t think as if you need to limit yourself - you can call yourself whatever you want. You know far better than me, you can be whatever you want to be.”

“I know who I want to be,” Alex said, the conviction behind her words forcing her head up to meet the hazel eyes of her mother. “For so long, I-... I’ve had this path in my life, ever since you’ve come back into it. When I woke up, and- and saw you there, and- and heard your voice, and… and when I was able to just talk to you after everything with dad was said and done, I-... for the first time in my life, I felt like I knew what I was doing. What I wanted to do!

And… it’s taken me this long, but… now I can finally be the person I really want to be. Who I’ve wanted to be from the beginning.” Words hang in the air for a moment, a tear refracting the light peering into the flaming cognac of her eyes as she makes her declaration.

“Your daughter.”

And in that moment, it feels as though Janella’s very soul had a new light beaming through it. Motherly tears are a thing she knows only in grief; leaving behind a son she loved, two children of her own, even, to circumstances she couldn’t do anything to control. Yet, as she pauses to let the words of the girl next to her repeat themselves in her mind, she can’t help a tear falling from her eye. With those two words, this had become just as significant for Janella as it ever could be for Alex.

To be a family. A family of two - but one more closely knit than any other she could have made.

And her smile lights the world up again. And her embrace reminds the girl of how precious she always will be. And the way she speaks so softly through her tears, squealing as she whispers to her, “My darling girl…” ... completes her.

She lets go after a time - though the warmth from the way they held each other fails to leave either of them. The lingering hesitation that Alex feels as the pen hovers above the paper is alleviated with a permitting nod from Janella. And so, triumphantly, her pen lowers to paper again - and then, to the surface of the desk, at least for the moment - and her new name is in full view of the two of them, in the best print she could manage.

Alexandra Alyssa Gale Iskra Cloutier.

“Well,” Alex hums, dry voice creaking just a little. “That’s one page out of the way already.”

“Ah, it was the hardest one, really.”, Janella is quick to reassure. “The rest is all declarations, me being a witness, things like that. We can do that, though, can’t we? Together.”

Together. She can’t see herself being happier than she already is - though, in the minutes that pass as they chat away through the paperwork that once was so daunting breezed past them like nothing, she felt more elated than she could imagine.

She knew only that she had a path to go down since her awakening by her mother’s side, and finally, finally she felt like they were walking that path, hand-in-hand.

She had always been free to do what she wanted - and all she wanted in the moment of triumph as they slipped the papers into an envelope to be sent off was to fling her arms around her mother. To hold her as close as the day they reunited - for now they were properly family. 

“I bet you’re proud of yourself for getting through this, surely?” “Mm-hmm…”, is all the response Alex could muster - until the few seconds where time stood still around them, the warmth of her motherly embrace enveloped her and quelled the excitement that still rocked through her, when she finally looks up, speaks properly; says that one thing she knew she says too much, yet not enough - yet this time, with heart.

“... I love you, Mom.”

[naberrian-blog]

head canon that there's a moment somewhere along the line where Padme, in her grief and her rage, almost falls over to the dark side. It's tempting. So tempting. It calls to her in the sound of Anakins' voice on Mustafar and appears in the shape of her childrens' tiny hands reaching out to her, only to be whisked away because it’s not safe, she’s not safe for them. It tugs at her braids and crawls up her legs and drags her to her knees--thud she goes, thud she falls, thud she can’t breathe, thud she can’t see-- and there's a moment where, for a glimpse of a second, she can understand the meaning of rage and power and I am god, I am strength, and you will fear my wrath.  It's just that, though: a moment. Nothing more, nothing less.  She takes the moment, burns it up, and builds General Amidala out of the ashes. They still spell out a familiar smolder: 

I am god. 

I am strength. 

You will will fear my wrath. 

[mortiny-blog]

Fate is a Cruel Mistress

AKA: The Mun is a Horrible Person

The day had started out fairly nice for once. Morty was told that he and his family were on their way to Jerry’s parents’ home to visit, and for once everyone was together and nobody was arguing either.

Well.. If one didn’t count the couple of times Beth got mad at Jerry for going the wrong way or not listening to her when she told him to stop and ask directions... Typical dad things.

Morty had been staring out the window contently through all of this, comfortably placed in his car seat that he was starting to outgrow, while his sister Summer sat beside him. Singing along to a song that was playing on the radio and kicking her feet as she did so.

It was hard to remember when the last time his whole family was in one spot together.. It was pretty nice.... Though he really wished Grampa Ricky could be around too. 

With this thought, the toddler glanced down to the bracelet on his wrist. The small band looked almost like a stop watch. Minus the watch part of course.

He remembered Grampa saying something about it giving him super powers... Whatever that meant.

He mostly liked it for the color.. And for the fact that Ricky gave it to him special.

“--JERRY STOP!!”

Morty’s head snapped up out of his thoughts at hearing his mother’s sudden scream. Then when he heard his sister following suit, the toddler quickly looked out the side window, just in time to see a truck heading towards them.

Out of instinct, Jerry slammed on the breaks. Lurching everyone forward, before the large semi-truck t-boned the car with a loud crashing sound.

The car began spinning, and the rest went by in a loud blurry flash of his sister flying up out of her seat, his mother being thrashed against the passenger window, and his dad spinning the steering wheel in a last small attempt to save everyone.

After that, Morty wasn’t sure. He remembered bringing his arms up to cover his head from the glass pouring in from every side of him, and he remembered feeling the car turn upside down at one point or another. But the rest was faded.

It was only when the chaos died down into an uncomfortable and eerie silence, that Morty found himself finally opening his eyes again nervously and looking around.

However, at this point in time, Morty was... Upside down.

But that was because the car was upside down too.

It was amazing his car seat stayed the way it was after all of that.... Wait--

Morty’s eyes started to focus more, and when he came back completely, he could see that the bracelet he was wearing, had luckily managed to keep Morty from getting pelt with glass or knocked out by the air bags.

That ‘super power’ Ricky had told him about, turned out to be some sort of blue forcefield... And... And it had just saved his life.

“Mommy...”

The toddler called out nervously, coughing a bit as he looked around more and noticed his family member all seeming to lie very very... Still.

... Oh.... Oh no.

“M-MOMMA??” 

Morty tried to pry himself from his car seat, though the buckle seemed to be stuck. So with a frantic motion, Morty started kicking around wildly, shaking the last remains of the car around with every jostle.

“MOMMA!! DADDY?? SUMMER!!!”

Morty felt tears fill his eyes, and if it hadn’t been for the blood rushing to his head, and the weird smoke filling the car, he probably would have been panicking a whole lot more than he was already.

“GRAMPA RICKY!!” The toddler screamed again, kicking and thrashing around as his breathing picked up and fear entered his blood.

He was running out of time. The car smelled like gasoline. And if Morty knew anything when it came to all those action movies he stayed up late to watch without Jerry or Beth finding out.. It was that gasoline usually followed fire... Or worse.

Morty let out a scared cry at that, and after stopping his kicking, his eyes darted around the car.

However, when he remembered something else, his eyes widened and he quickly shifted and fumbled around in his pocket. Eventually pulling out a small metallic box and pressing the button quickly.

When the other finally showed up as a glowing blue hologram in front of him.

“GRAM--”

The car let out a loooong groaning creak, the weight shifting a bit and causing Morty to almost drop to device and let out another crying scream.

“G-GRAMPA!!”

@protegc

[uniformbravo]

u ever get like super obsessed w/ a song from a genre u usually can’t stand

[toastxpiercer]

albert's crippling sense of self consciousness knocks me on my ass every time i write with him. 

like do you know why he likes to perform?? because it makes him feel good about himself. he needs the show almost as much as the show needs him. 

because otherwise he just feels fat and unattractive and useless that's why he's always like "YOU'RE SEEING SOMEONE ELSE AREN'T YOU ARMAND" how can someone else love him that much when he has a hard time loving himself

WOW THAT'S A LITTLE DARK ISN'T IT